


Vade Retro, Satana!

by SerotoninUp



Category: Lucifer (TV)
Genre: Attempt at Humor, Exorcisms, Ficlet, Gen, Inaccurate Catholicism, Lucifer Morningstar (Lucifer TV) Devil Reveal, Of course the Devil speaks Latin, One Shot, Prompt Fic, Prompt Fill, Tumblr Prompt
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-07-30
Updated: 2020-07-30
Packaged: 2021-03-05 21:02:07
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 981
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/25601779
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/SerotoninUp/pseuds/SerotoninUp
Summary: A priest witnesses Lucifer’s Devil face during the arrest of a murder suspect. He attempts an exorcism; Lucifer helpfully lends his language skills to the cause.
Comments: 30
Kudos: 321





	Vade Retro, Satana!

**Author's Note:**

> Disclaimer: I’m not Catholic, or even religious, so apologies in advance for any mistakes. I got the (probably inaccurate) Latin incantation from a five-second Google search and an article hilariously titled “Latin Is Still the Best Language for Fighting Satan.”
> 
> This fic was inspired by the tumblr prompt: “When a young unexpirienced priest tries to exorcise Lucifer he suddenly forgets some Latin words. Amused Lucifer prompts him.”

Lucifer tugged on the handle of the church door and grinned. Their suspect had locked it behind him, as if a locked door could possibly thwart the Devil. Lucifer laid his hand against the lock, and with just a slight projection of his Will, the mechanism sprang open. He allowed himself a small, satisfied smile as he pulled the door open and entered the church, where he paused, listening to the darkness.

Soft breathing and near-silent footsteps told him their killer was crouched among the front pews, shuffling toward an Emergency Exit door to one side. In just a few moments, Lucifer caught up to him. He grabbed the man by the back of the neck and tossed him carelessly against the wall, then pinned him there with one hand on the man’s chest.

“You’ve been a naughty boy, Johnny,” he crooned.

“It wasn’t me,” the man babbled. “I didn’t kill her, I swear!”

“Lies,” Lucifer hissed, his hand clenching around a fistful of t-shirt. He could see the filthy veneer of sin and guilt that lay like a shroud upon the man’s soul. Fury gripped him, and he called forth the blazing red eyes and scarred flesh of his Devil face.

His captive screamed and thrashed under Lucifer’s hand. “Oh God, oh God, I’m sorry, I’m sorry! I killed her, I did it, I’m sorry, _please—”_

“Lucifer!”

Lucifer banished his Devil face immediately and turned around to face the Detective. She stood and glared at him, her ponytail swinging as if she’d had to run to catch up with him. One hand rested on her hip; the other held a bright flashlight, which she courteously kept trained on the floor.

“Detective!” Lucifer said, in that overly-gleeful voice that always made her roll her eyes at him (and she did exactly that now, to his utter delight). “I caught our killer! And I think you’ll find he’s very, very sorry for what he did.”

The Detective sighed, long-suffering, and dropped her face into her hand, pinching the bridge of her nose. “Let him go, Lucifer.”

Lucifer shrugged and released the man, who staggered away from him, still blathering his apologies.

The Detective cuffed their penitent murderer and led him out into the moonless night to meet the backup units. The man went willingly, whimpering and casting terrified glances at Lucifer. Chloe turned and gave Lucifer her patented _what the Hell did you do_ face, and he batted his eyelashes at her, his smile the picture of innocence.

Only after Chloe and the killer exited the church did Lucifer notice strange sounds coming from behind the pulpit. He vaulted the barrier between nave and sanctuary with ease and peered into the shadows.

“Hello, hello,” he called out. “Any other baddies hiding back here?”

A young man—practically a baby, really, with all that peach fuzz on his cherubic cheeks—stumbled out from the darkness, his face pale, eyes as wide as saucers. In his trembling hands, he gripped a crucifix, thrusting it out before him as if to ward off evil spirits. Lucifer tilted his head, confused, and then noticed the man’s attire: black cassock, white collar.

He grinned. “Good evening, Padre. You look like you’ve had a shock. Did our murderer confess his terrible sins to you?” A corroborated confession would certainly please the Detective.

“Get back, Satan!” the priest gasped.

Lucifer paused, realization dawning. “Ohhh,” he breathed, eyes glinting with amusement. “Saw the face of the Devil, did you?”

_“Exi—exi ergo, transgressor,”_ the priest cried out. His face and neck flushed, and sweat broke across his forehead. _“Exi, seductor, plene omni… plene omni…”_ his voice faltered, and he wiped at his brow. His entire body shook with terror.

_“Plene omni dolo et fallacia,”_ Lucifer supplied helpfully. The priest nearly fell over as the words left Lucifer’s mouth, and the Devil smirked at him.

“Not the first time someone’s tried to exorcise me, Padre,” Lucifer chuckled. He pulled his cigarettes and lighter from inside his jacket and lit up, inhaling deeply before blowing smoke in the man’s general direction.

For a moment, the priest looked affronted, like he might tell Lucifer off for smoking in church. But then he seemed to remember who, exactly, stood in front of him, so instead of scolding the Devil, the man collapsed to his knees, still holding the crucifix aloft. Lucifer could hear his heart thudding away in his chest; if the young man didn’t calm down, he was liable to give himself a coronary.

_“Plene omni dolo et fallacia,”_ the priest whispered, his wide, frantic eyes locked on Lucifer’s face. _“Virtutis inimici, innocentium persecutor. Da locum… da locum...”_

_“Da locum, dirissime! Da locum, impiissime!”_ Lucifer coaxed.

The priest shuddered and picked up the incantation again, his voice hoarse. _“Da locum Christo, in quo nihil invenisti de operibus tui. Qui te… qui te…”_

_“Qui te spoliavit,”_ Lucifer prompted. He couldn’t help but be impressed by the man’s tenacity. “You’re doing great,” he said encouragingly. “Just a bit more, you’re almost done.”

Tears slipped down the priest’s face, but he soldiered on, his words high-pitched and wavering. _“Qui te spoliavit, qui regnum tuum destruxit, qui te victum ligavit!”_

A wild, triumphant expression crossed the young man’s face as he finished the incantation. A moment later, his eyes fluttered closed and he slid to the floor with a thud, the crucifix slipping from his limp fingers.

Lucifer sighed and shook his head. He could still hear the man’s heartbeat, so at least he hadn’t frightened him to death. That was a relief; Lucifer really didn’t want to explain a dead priest to the Detective.

Speaking of, she was probably waiting for him. Lucifer stubbed out his cigarette on the pulpit, glancing upward as he did so.

“Thanks for the entertainment, Dad,” he sneered, and his bitter laughter echoed through the dark, empty church as he left.


End file.
